Written for the International Wizarding World Championship

School: Beauxbatons

Year: Year 7

Theme: Blocking - write about a character who tries to block the success of another.

Main Prompt: [Object] Philosopher's Stone

Additional prompt: [Plot point] Using another's Pensieve

Word Count: 3350

Huge THANKS to my Betas - Ninja, Esme and Paceso!

"Of course, master." In spite of Quirrell's calm voice, his insides were shaking. He could feel his heart beating, and he felt almost as if he could hear the Dark Lord's breath within his head.

Shakily, he touched his turban. "I will not disappoint you, my lord," he said through gritted teeth.

"Good," the voice in his head hissed. "Because there is no failure, Quirrell, you know that..."

Quirrell clenched his teeth together. Yes, he knew. All too well.

He wanted him to go away, to leave him alone – but this thought alone was already dangerous. If the master knew that he wished him gone – Quirrell didn't even dare to consider it.

Instead, he should be worrying about something else. How would he be able to get the stone? If it was only his own protection guarding it, it would be all too easy... But Dumbledore had hinted that several teachers were involved, and then there was the problem of that dog-thing on the third floor.

"When?" he heard the hiss of his master. Quirrell flinched.

"When, what, master?"

The voice was impatient as it replied, "When will you get possession of the stone?"

"Oh," Quirrell said with his face contorted, and he gave a nervous titter. "I... I mean, I did, as you know, try to get past the dog and -"

"I don't care about what you tried." He definitely sounded angry now. "I care about the results."

"Yes, of course, my apologies, my lord." Quirrell was getting nervous. There were no results, and if things didn't improve quickly, there wouldn't be any any time soon. "Well, I do know that Dumbledore is doing everything to protect the stone from intruders, so we must be careful … Anything involving Dumbledore has the potential to be dangerous."

Quirrell squirmed at the thought of Dumbledore. He feared the headmaster almost as much as he did the Dark Lord, although he had no intention of revealing this to his master. He prayed his possessor would never find out.

"Do you take me for a fool?" the voice asked, enraged. "I know we must be wary of Dumbledore! But still, I am waiting, Quirrell, and Lord Voldemort does not like to be kept waiting..."

Quirrell closed his eyes and swallowed. The Dark Lord's voice echoed in his head, commanding him to come up with a plan, but Quirrell's fear of failure clouded every word. He feared his inner resistance being laid bare. He feared for his life if his master penetrated those secret recesses of his mind.

When he had first met him a couple of months ago, he had seemed to be the one person that would make everything possible for him... that he could go from being a barely recognized teacher to a praised sorcerer, whose powers were spoken about by the entire wizard community. The Dark Lord and Quirinus Quirrell...

He had not realized that there was a long way to go, a long way filled with fear... Not only because of the Lord himself, but also because of the other powerful wizards in this world. What good would it do if he persuaded his master he was a valuable servant if Dumbledore discovered his treachery and had him sent to Azkaban?

With every passing day, the voice in his head grew more impatient, and with every sleepless night, Quirrell worried more. What if he didn't figure out something in time? What would the Dark Lord do to him?

Severus Snape was pacing up and down in Dumbledore's study. "We must keep an eye on him," he said in a severe voice. "His behavior on Halloween was more than suspicious."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful. "I agree, Severus," he said with a slightly sad voice. "Curious, though... Quirrell was a teacher here for so long… He was one of our best professors in Muggle Studies - I thought he was loyal to the school."

Snape shrugged. "Apparently his loyalty lies elsewhere now," he said, giving Dumbledore a sharp look. They both knew exactly what was meant by the word 'elsewhere'.

Dumbledore shook his head warningly. "Do not jump to conclusions."

Snape raised an eyebrow. "I would wager my undamaged leg that Quirrell had no good intentions when he tried to pass that bloody beast..."

Dumbledore smiled faintly. "Innocent until proven guilty," he said in an admonitory tone. "But you might still need your leg if Quirrell is indeed up to something, so no wagers, please."

Quirrell leaned next to the door of the third floor. Everything seemed quiet. But that meant nothing. Everything had seemed quiet on Halloween when the damn dog had almost bitten his leg... But Quirrell wouldn't have minded losing all his limbs if only Snape hadn't shown up. It wasn't like he was afraid of the potions master – not as afraid as he was of the Dark Lord – but he knew now that he was being watched... The thought made his stomach squirm and caused him sleepless nights.

Quirrell flinched as he heard steps. Before he had time to turn around, a firm hand grabbed him and pushed him backwards to the wall. Quirrell tried to reach for his wand, but Snape's grip prevented him. Quirrell stared into his black eyes and tried not to appear afraid.

"Back again, Quirrell?" Snape hissed. Quirrell flinched; Snape's cold voice reminded him a bit of Voldemort.

"I d-d-don't know w-w-what -"

"What don't you know?" Snape snarled. "What hides behind this door? Because I think you do, Quirrell." Snape's face was full of loathing. "Is your life so miserable? Want to enlighten it with a bit of gold?"

"I d-d-didn't know t-t-the stone is h-h-hid-den -"

"Oh, so you know about the stone," Snape remarked, pretending surprise. "And it sounds appealing to you, doesn't it? An artefact that can make everything it touches gold – or is there something else to the stone? Do you have a little secret?"

"I d-d-don't know w-w-hat you're t-talking a-about."

"Don't lie to me," Snape hissed. Quirrell couldn't help but flinch. That was a phrase he knew from his master.

"Listen," Snape growled, "I don't know what you might be up to, but I know you are a filthy liar, and I will do anything to find out what you hope to discover."

Quirrell looked at him, not knowing how to reply.

"And I'm warning you," Snape continued, "while you might believe there are things worth risking, if you go after the stone you'll find things you won't be able to handle. And whatever you plan on doing, we will find out." With those words, he let go of Quirrell. But his stare didn't waver until Quirrell had turned around and hurried down the staircase.

Even now, as he sat in his office, he felt as if Snape was still watching him. He rested his head on the desk and tried to think clearly. Snape's warning had been quite clear. They were suspecting him, watching him... And hadn't Snape predicted his failure as well? Things you won't be able to handle...

Quirrell snorted. As if he was inexperienced! He had fought all kinds of magical creatures already, after all!

But Snape had also helped him. He had basically told him that the stone was indeed hidden under the trap door. And judging by what he had said, Quirrell's suspicions that Dumbledore had involved other teachers were also correct.

After all, Dumbledore had requested a security measure from him as well.

Of course, Snape hadn't been too obvious, but now Quirrell figured there were three things to do: 1. Find out who did the security charms and what they did. 2. Find a way to get past those enchantments. 3. Get past the dog and to the stone.

Of the three, the third seemed to be the most problematic. But he still had time to get to that one. First of all, he needed some information. More precisely, he needed to find out everything he could.

He stared at his desk for a couple of minutes but realized that this wasn't getting him anywhere. He got up and started walking up and down; that always helped him to think more clearly. He tried to recall the day Dumbledore had called him into his office and asked him for help. He had told him he needed to hide an important object for a dear friend and had asked whether Quirrell could add an enchantment for its protection. Quirrell had agreed more than willingly, hoping Dumbledore would tell him some more. But that was the only time the headmaster had mentioned the stone at all.

Quirrell closed his eyes. What had he seen in Dumbledore's office? Were there any clues?

There had been his desk, with an unhealthy amount of sweets on it; many closets, almost all of them closed; a drawer that contained, if Quirrell was not mistaken, a boggart; and the cupboard with Dumbledore's old Pensieve...

Quirrell stopped walking around his desk. His heart was beating very fast now.

The Pensieve.

How could he have overlooked it? If there was a way of knowing what Dumbledore was thinking, how he was hiding the stone, the Pensieve was it, the place where every memory was kept... Dumbledore surely would have put his memories regarding the Philosopher's Stone in there, he wouldn't want anyone capable of Legilimency knowing what was happening to the stone.

Quirrell got excited. If he had followed his immediate inclination, he would have run out of his study and to Dumbledore's office there and then, but his mind told him that would be a very stupid thing to do. He needed to think it out very carefully. He couldn't just burst into Dumbledore's office, especially not tonight when Snape was prowling around.

Where did the headmaster sleep, anyway? Quirrell highly doubted he would have his bedroom in his study, but now that he thought about it, he realized that he had no idea where it might be. He also would have to make sure that Dumbledore wouldn't notice that someone had used his Pensieve in secret. If Dumbledore already suspected him...

Quirrell sat down to form a plan. He knew it was risky to break into Dumbledore's office – Dumbledore, of all people! But he thought it was worth the risk. If he succeeded, he would have all the information he needed.

His master would be pleased.

As Snape walked down to the dungeons, he was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't even notice Filch and his cat, as they crossed his path.

Filch looked at him suspiciously. "Ah, it's you, Professor Snape," he said. "I thought one of the students might be out of bed – that would have meant trouble..." But he seemed pleased at this thought.

Snape gave him a rare smile and tried to hurry around the corner. Filch followed him. "I'd better check the dungeons as well," he grunted, "some Slytherins might be thinking the night is too pretty to stay in bed..."

"My students know perfectly well how to behave," Snape pointed out coldly, hoping Filch would get the hint and leave him alone. He wanted to recall the entire conversation with Quirrell to figure out if the stammering idiot might really be troublesome.

Luckily Filch took the hint and turned around, and Snape sighed with relief.

Once in the privacy of his office, he went over the situation again. Quirrell had been so full of fear, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. If he was so afraid, he wouldn't hang around anywhere near the dog. He would avoid the entire third floor. Snape was sure he knew what Quirrell was up to.

He was determined to do anything in his power to stop him, whatever the cost.

As he tiptoed towards Dumbledore's office, Quirrell had the eerie feeling that his steps echoed through the castle even louder than usual. He kept looking around to see if someone was following him. But he was fortunate. The headmaster had to go away for the night since there was a meeting of the Wizengamot, and Professor McGonagall was taking care of the castle in his absence, and she was far less of a threat.

After unlocking the door with Alohomora, Quirrell carefully slipped inside. He found the Pensieve without problems, after all, he had once seen Dumbledore using it. What was harder was how to know which memory was the one he needed. After several minutes, Quirrell decided he would probably just have to try every one until he found the correct one.

He took one of the vials and poured the liquid into the Pensieve. Then, his heart already pounding faster, he bent down.

He quickly discovered that this memory was not the one he was looking for; Dumbledore was far too young. It took him four vials until he finally found one that mentioned the stone.

Quirrell closed his eyes and listened carefully while he tried to remember each piece of information.

Dumbledore was in his office, and Quirrell was pleased to see he was not alone. Snape was with him. Quirrell hurried to get as close to the two persons as possible.

Snape seemed to be angry.

"Well done, Dumbledore!" he snarled. "We try everything to keep the boy safe, first all those years at the Muggles' house, and now that we have finally brought him here, the safest place in the United Kingdom, you don't come up with anything cleverer than bringing into the school an object that attracts every wizard with dark leanings! Are you out of your mind? Don't you realize -"

But he stopped as Dumbledore lifted his hand. "Severus," he said, his voice as calm as ever. "Please, I do realize more than you think I do. Sit down, and we can discuss this. I must say I find it charming how much you care for the boy -"

"I've made a promise, and I intend to keep it," Snape growled. "I don't want my efforts rendered useless."

"I have no intention of putting Harry in danger. He remains perfectly safe here. I need you to trust me."

Snape snorted.

"After all, remember that I trust you as well," Dumbledore pointed out.

Snape didn't say anything and just looked at the headmaster.

Dumbledore smiled. "I know how to protect the stone," he said. "This is why Nicolas Flamel asked me to take it. But I do not wish my enchantment alone to suffice. Which is why I need not only you but the entire staff – well, selected teachers, at least."

Snape frowned. "Who else besides me?"

"I do count on Professor McGonagall, Professor Flitwick, Professor Sprout, you obviously -"

"In short, the Heads of Houses," Snape interrupted.

"Yes. And Hagrid, as well -"

"Hagrid?"

"He is capable of more than you would think. But since we are one person short from having seven – I decided to ask Professor Quirrell as well."

Quirrell could see how shocked Snape looked. "Quirrell?" he asked. "Why would you entrust him with something this important?"

Dumbledore looked surprised. "Well, Snape, he knows a lot about the Dark Arts and - ah." Dumbledore paused. "That's the issue, isn't it? That I gave him the post you wanted to teach?"

"Of course not," Snape said, but his face said otherwise. "That's completely off the point. I just don't think he is -"

"He is very capable," Dumbledore said calmly. "And I didn't want to discuss this with you. Since I trust you fully, Severus, I want you to know what I came up with."

Dumbledore got up from his chair and walked up and down. "Since someone already got into a vault in Gringotts, we must assume we are dealing with a very powerful and skilled wizard or witch. Simple spells won't stop them. What we need are several – seven, to be precise – hurdles on their way, that will weaken them. And when they reach the seventh barrier – my own ingenious contrivance – they will be so close to the stone that they will be able to see it, but will never reach it. We will have weakened our opponents, but they will never succeed."

Snape looked at him. "So what you are saying is, you expect the thieves to get through all our barriers, but not yours?"

"Exactly," Dumbledore said. "I still need you, of course, as I said, to make sure we can capture them. They may be powerful Dark wizards."

"Or one particular powerful Dark wizard?" Snape said quietly.

Dumbledore looked at him thoughtfully. "Yes, maybe," he said quietly. "But he will not have a chance until we let him, Severus. And I count on you."

Dumbledore sat down again and sipped his tea. "Seven barriers," he said, "one creature, four difficult enchantments, one trick with potions in order to ensure the way to the stone is one direction only - I am pretty sure you can achieve that, Severus – and my own contribution, which is impossible to conquer."

"How can you know it is impossible to conquer?"

Dumbledore raised an eyebrow. "You must take my word for it, Severus," he said.

Quirrell had seen enough. He left the Pensieve and sat down on Dumbledore's chair. His head was aching as he tried to put into order everything he had just found out. Apparently, it was almost too easy to get to the stone, but you still couldn't get it... But what powers could stand against the ones of his master? If Quirrell got close to the stone, the Dark Lord would be able to obtain it. Dumbledore didn't know that 'the thieves' weren't typical dark wizards. He might suspect the Dark Lord was interested in the stone, but he could not know how far the Lord had already penetrated. Together with him, Quirrell could achieve this, he was sure of it.

He had to achieve it. In his mind, he already saw himself, presenting the stone...Quirrell thought of his plan again. 1. Find out who did the security charms, and what they did. Check. He knew enough. 2. Finding a way to get past those enchantments. Well, according to what he had just heard and seen, that wouldn't be too difficult. 3. Get past the dog and to the stone. Yes, this could still be problematic. If only he knew more about the beast. But at least he knew now where it came from: Hagrid. That would mean he'd have to go to Hagrid's and see if the man let slip anything... There was a chance.

For the first time since the Dark Lord had merged their consciouses, Quirrell almost hoped that the voice in his head would start to speak again. Finally, he had something to present to his master.

It surprised him how easy it had been. It almost felt as if not only Dumbledore had left the castle, but Snape as well...

But Snape hadn't left. He was still in the castle. He had made a promise, and he wanted to make sure he would get to Quirrell. He would find out what was happening in that man's head, even if that meant he had to sleep the whole night next to the door of the third floor. Behind the door, he could hear the growls of the dog, a painful reminder to what the dog had done to him on the night of Halloween.

Snape stayed on the floor almost all night, although he wasn't too surprised Quirrell didn't show up. Apparently, he had managed to scare the man at least enough to keep him away for now. Maybe he was making some progress. Perhaps all their enchantments were an unnecessary precaution, after all.

Snape got up from the floor, deciding it was time to get some sleep. He would tell Filch to keep a keen eye on the third floor.

So Snape went to bed under the impression that the night was safe. He had no idea that Quirrell was well on his way to achieving his goal.